Chapter 3 - ii

II
Old Appius had been a prophet, like that witch Marius had brought back with him from Africa, his daughter blew-up like a wine sack. True Roman though I was, I found I couldn't help but like it, and even encourage her eating. I found my pilum stiffenting everytime I thought about her, be it on the rostra or in the law courts. Even on the Field of Mars, as I stood for election to Roma's highest office, Consul, I thought about words I had spokent to her the night before, and was lucky for the folds of my Toga Praextila covered the trouble spot.
"Clodia" I had breathed to her, as I recovered from a bout of love, "I want to appear with you at the end of my consulate, one year from tomorrow, and I want you to be the fattest Consul's wife in the anals of the Republic. I want to shock the prude buggers, wether they be Optimates or Populares, with your glory! I want them to know that as I go off to my Proconsulship wherever it be, I have all of your softness to welcome me back to bed, to welcome me home every night!"
She had moaned, and demanded that I eat from her naval, which she had stuffed with candied figs. It was deep, and surrounded by soft fat, and I had obliged her well, and eaten more from a different place. All the while one of our slaves had been pouring drips of sweetened cream on her magnificent breasts, which she had greedily lapped up, with such a relish that I had stiffened again before I knew it and gone at her again. As I mounted her I found again that although she was loose from our earlier fray, her thighs and cunnus had thickened to the point where I had to exert strong pressure to part her lips, while her billowing belly prevented me from getting to close to her mouth with my own. I had learned to content myself with suckling on a roll of fat from beneath her breast if her breasts had been covered in cream. She was becoming more and more greedy, and didn't want to share that sweet cream with even me.
As I thrust her roll covered, dimpled belly, thighs and breasts all heaved as one. It was almost like being on a ship at sea, and I had commanded many. Up, and down, and up and down, gingerly, as not to spill much of her treasured cream. The slave, a Gallic beauty, watched on, occaisionally rubbing between her own thighs, aroused by my wifes passionate demands for cream, or pleasure. I could tell that this was a girl I should watch, as the stretchmarks on her thickening waist attested to her fondness for her mistresses left-overs.
"I will be honored to fatten for you Lucius. For you and Rome. All we do in public life is for the greater glory of the Republic, and I will make myself as big as I can to satisfy you both."
She already must have exceeded 400 libra, and I knew how much she consumed from the bills our Thracian housemaster left on my desk each week. She was more than twice the girl I had married and I often had trouble seeing the slightly plump child she had been when I had first laid eyes on her. Only when she was deep into some new delicacy whipped up by our kitchen slaves did I see it, that glazed over look in those beautiful blue eyes, and the cheeks soon covered in whatever sweetmeats, jam or cake we had on hand.
Her morning routine started as I was nearly through caring for my few hundred clients, or at about noon. She would waddle in to my study, parting whatever clients were on hand with her girth and put a wet kiss on my ear. This wasn't so much from affection but due to the fact that many of my clients were bakers or traders from the Subura and they always had something fresh, exotic and sweet on hand for her to sample, knowing orders would soon follow. The sight of her greedy mouth devouring some new delicacy, cheeks smudged with cream or jelly, and her chins jiggling up and down, the smell of her body freshly scented with some new fragrance from the East and the sight of her fatty upper arms and dimpled fingers. Writing about it brings back the same feelings...which would lead me to delay my trip to the forum until the mid afternoon.